


Tattoo

by Plus1STR



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Cartinelli - Freeform, F/F, Femslash, One Shot, Short One Shot, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:19:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3668898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plus1STR/pseuds/Plus1STR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy takes a moment to question a few of Angie's tattoos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [Tatuagem](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4843676) by [Rosetta (Melime)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melime/pseuds/Rosetta)



            “What about this one?”

            Peggy lazily dragged a hand along Angie’s exposed forearm at the crook of her elbow, tugging away the twisted bedsheet to give her more access. Angie giggled softly at the feathery contact sliding along her skin.

            “A drunken mistake covered up with a compass.”

            “Oh, do explain.”

            “Carol bet I couldn’t do a lap around the Griffith with Gloria on my back and a Martinelli never turns down a bet.”

            “And?” Peggy pressed, tracing a small circle around the tattoo in question.

            “And I lost. She drew this real awful looking ladybug and I got it on my arm. Had that thing for two months.” Angie wrinkled her nose in disgust, thinking back to that day. It was an incredibly idiotic bet; Carol was looking to get rid of a record player, but, being as devious as she was, she wouldn’t give it up for free. One lap around the Griffith didn’t seem like that much of a challenge until Carol tacked on the other conditions; Angie had to polish half a bottle of schnapps and make that run with Gloria on her back. Angie didn’t even make it a quarter of the way before she stumbled over. Carol felt so guilty about the tattoo that she still gave Angie the record player.

“I don’t drink with Carol anymore.”

            “I should hope not.” Peggy’s fingertips glided along Angie’s skin to the next tattoo that rested on the inside of her bicep. “This one?”

            Ever since Peggy discovered Angie’s makeup disguised tattoos after finding the little music notes on the back of her neck, she made it a point to learn the story of each and every one of them insisting that no detail be spared— she was a woman on a mission. Angie craned her neck for a moment, taking a good, hard look at the next inked piece that drew in the woman’s attention; the albatross.

            “Frankie always had a thing for albatrosses.” Angie smiled sadly at the mention of her brother and dropped her head back into her pillow; it’d be nearly three years since he passed in the war. “Said they were good luck.”

            Peggy lowered her head, gingerly leaving a trail of kisses along Angie’s arm from her bicep to the simple yet sizable American flag that stretched along to the back of her shoulder.

            “So very patriotic.” Peggy hummed against the warm skin under her lips. Angie muffled a laugh into her pillow and the sound alone made Peggy beam. “I’m sure your mother was ecstatic.”

            “Ma doesn’t mind it so much, but Pa, Pa can’t stand it. Always makes a face.” Angie propped herself up on her elbows. “Stella,” she started, putting on her well-worn Italian accent. “You put on a sweater before your father see’s you,” she did her best impression of her mother, hand gestures and all while mimicking her father’s face of disapproval. When Angie’s father first saw it, he nearly had a heart attack; in hindsight, Angie should have expected that sort of reaction from him. He was always so set in his ways. "Angela Luciana Valeria Martinelli, you betta tell me that's paint on your shoulder."

            “Thrillingly realistic.”

            “You haven’t met my parents,” Angie mumbled, turning her head slightly to look at Peggy. Her hair shifted just enough for Peggy to catch a glimpse of the little, blue nautical star tucked away safely behind Angie’s ear.

            “Soon.”

            Peggy swung and arm and a leg over Angie, hovering over her tentatively before settling some of her body weight flat against Angie’s back, forcing Angie off of her elbows.

            “You’re squishing me.”

            “I wasn’t squishing you thirty minutes ago, darling.”

            “No, you were suffocating me.”

            “Don’t be lewd.”

            “You started it.”

            Peggy tickled along Angie’s sides, giving her a soft poke to the ribs. She ignored the squeals of protest and the squirming under her and continued her trail of bites and kisses along Angie’s shoulder to her neck and to the tattoo behind her ear.

            “And this one?” Peggy whispered softly, pressing her lips to the inked skin earning a satisfied sigh from Angie.

            “I was sixteen. Wanted to put it on my wrist, but Frankie talked me out of it. Said people ain’t too keen on queer folk, that some people were gonna treat me different. But I wanted it for me. I’m not ashamed of who I am, y’know? So I got behind my ear. I can see it when I want to, but my hair can still cover it just in case I end up in the wrong neck of the woods.”

            Peggy placed another light kiss to the tattoo before Angie started squirming beneath her again. Peggy lifted herself just enough for Angie to flip onto her back and Angie’s hands began to travel; one ran along Peggy’s spine and the other twirled cascading, loose locks of dark brown hair between her fingers. Peggy relaxed into Angie’s touch as her own fingertips skated along Angie’s collarbone.

            “Do you know how much I adore you?”

            Angie smiled up at Peggy, watching her meticulous focus dart between the scripted words just below one collarbone and follow along to the string of flowers on the other side. Angie wrapped her arms around Peggy’s waist and rolled them over, holding herself up with a hand at either side of Peggy’s head. “Even with all the tattoos?”

            “Especially with the tattoos.”

            “Even if I had a pinup gal on my arm?”

            “Please tell me you don’t.” Peggy sent up a playful glare, swatting at Angie’s chest.

            “What if it were you?”

            “Don’t you dare.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [stuunalee](http://www.stuunalee.tumblr.com) who put this idea out there as well as [biscuitprince](http://biscuitprince.tumblr.com/) and [change-the-rules](http://change-the-rules.tumblr.com/) who both helped out with what sort of tats Angie would have.


End file.
